crouched in the darkness
was the bud awaiting
the unbearable lightness,
breathing under the stark
tyranny of the dusk
consuming all that life held
before the aching midnight -
the flower that bore the
delight and promise of
things that are to be revealed,
for today there will be
no mention of hunger or pain,
no mention of tears or suffering,
just the hope of unraveling.
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